Parts Fade
by Alchemist Experiment
Summary: Elvenbane fic, spoilers for the first book. Shana tried so hard to be what everyone wanted, but it was hard to be strong when all she wanted to do was mourn.


Dislcaimer: Not mine, not making any money off of this at all.

**Parts Fade**

There were times when it was hard to be strong. She knew she had to be, because she was Shana. She was the Elvenbane, she was taking these people to their future - the future she'd made for them, more or less. She was a general, a warrior, a leader….

But she was also just Shana, a teenage girl thrust into something so much bigger than she had ever imagined. She'd never wanted to be a leader! She'd never wanted to be hailed as some prophesied hero! But she was stuck with it, and she had to deal with it. She had to put on a brave face, and give them what they wanted her to be. This strange foreign thing that seemed so disconnected from her.

Trekking through the wilderness so soon after the war wasn't helping things either. Everyone was tired and sore and hungry, unused to physical exertion and frightened for their lives. What if the elves went back on their treaty? What if even now, armies were being sent after them? And she was the one they came to with their fears and questions, until she was frustrated and second-guessing herself and close to giving up.

And on a more personal level, the trek reminded her of things that were still too painful to deal with. Each night, huddled around a fire, she'd think back to the damp pines of Lord Cheynar's estate. It was all too easy to feel Mero's leg brush against hers and for a moment, for one moment, think it was Valyn's instead. But Valyn was gone. She forgot, sometimes. Especially at night.

She remembered all too well how his leg I would /I brush against hers, and how he would pull it away as soon as he noticed, as if he were afraid of her. How he had strained away from her, how he had watched her like a hawk. She still didn't understand why, even after Mero had explained to her things she never would have guessed. She realized he couldn't show his feelings, but that didn't tell her anything of what his feelings had been! Why had he been so against the idea of that relationship with her?

And Mero hadn't known, either. On the subject of Shana, Valyn had been unusually close lipped. Which didn't tell her one damn thing. Fire and rain, she missed him. Why had he been such a fool? To run off and I die /I like that! And everyone gave her credit for winning the war, even though if it weren't for Valyn…

Well, to be frank, if it weren't for Valyn there probably wouldn't have been the war anyway. Not then and there. He'd been the catalyst that she reacted to. If he had never…. She felt the prickle of tears at the corners of her eyes once more and she wiped them away as quickly and surreptitiously as she could. A great leader couldn't well be seen crying into her gruel, after all.

They could have been happy. And familiarity bred affinity, after all. He had I liked /I her, at the very least. He could have come to love her - I would /I - have come to love her!

She should have just pounced on him. It wasn't as though he'd protest once she was kissing him. Now, she wished she had. Even if things had happened the same, even if he had pushed her away, at least she would have had that.

She dreamed of him every night. Sometimes they were romance dreams, the kind that made her embarrassed. She'd never had a lover, and she was rather certain the images and sensations her mind offered up weren't how it went in real life. But it was all she had, the intangible memory of kisses and embraces in fantasy dreams. Sometimes they were nightmares, and those dreams she barely remembered. But either one, dream or nightmare, when she woke she was torn with guilt and loss. Guilt because she felt it was her fault - she had ignored him. And he had never said a word, because he never did. But she hadn't understood! She wasn't used to elves! She was used to people who said exactly what was on their minds! If only she had known, she could have done something, given I him /I something to do. Something to live for.

All through the wilderness, he'd been pushing his cause. His dream of a better world, his plans for uniting the younger lords. And then she'd gone and taken that dream and those plans and left him with what? Nothing. She hadn't meant to - and the coldly logical part of her mind reminded her that if he'd I truly /I wanted to do something that badly, he would have - but it had happened that way. She hadn't meant to! But she'd done it anyway, and she couldn't change it.

But she could regret it.


End file.
